


Gone John

by castheangel666



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Angst, Crying, Death, Oops, blame gaylen, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-10-08 00:57:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17376488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castheangel666/pseuds/castheangel666
Summary: The Beatles finding out about John's death





	1. Paul McCharmly

**Author's Note:**

  * For [logicalspecs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/logicalspecs/gifts), [gaylen](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=gaylen).



Paul got the call as he was getting ready for work.

 

“Hello?! Hello, Paul?!”

 

Paul frowned at the frantic voice. “Hello? Yes?”   
  


“John! It’s John!” Paul’s stomach dropped.

 

“John? What’s happened?” 

 

“You haven’t heard?” Paul felt anxious. What had John done now?   
  
“No...is he okay?”

 

“He’s been shot.”

 

Paul’s hand shot up to his mouth. Not his Johnny! “How’s he doing?” Paul swallowed, “You think I can visit him soon?”

 

“Paul,” the voice got quiet, “H-he died last night.”

 

Paul dropped the receiver and sank to his knees. John. His best friend. His biggest fan. His brother. His ex-bandmate. He was gone. He was gone and he wasn’t coming back.

 

Paul stayed there for the rest of the day, curled up in a ball, crying his eyes out. Forty years was much too young an age to die. The pain turned into rage and he screamed, hitting the floor with his fists until his knuckles bled, just like John had last night, waiting for someone to save him. Someone had shot his best friend. Why? To prove something? To cause pain? Why? Paul fell against the wall and sobbed.


	2. George Parisol

George picked up the phone, wiping the dried drool of his cheek.

 

“Hello?” he yawned. It was much too early to be awake. Who the hell was calling?

 

“Hello? Is this Mr George Harrison?” a shaky voice asked.

 

“Speaking,” he straightened his spine.

 

“It’s about a Mr John Lennon.”

 

George tensed up even more. “What about him?” Nothing good, if John wasn’t calling himself.

 

“Mr Lennon was shot and killed last night. I’m very sorry,” the voice didn’t sound sorry at all.   
  
George gasped. His head spun. He managed to thank them before leaning heavily on the counter. His big brother. His fellow guitarist. His friend. Someone had...oh god.

 

George stumbled to the table and slumped over, crying into his hands. He was gone. Gone forever. He cried and cried. He didn’t know how long he sat there, eyes and throat burning, but he didn’t care. John was never going to scold him for smoking again. Never get “mad” at him for stealing his food or shaking cigarette ashes into his hair. Never mess up his hair and laugh when he complained. Never make jokes that no one else understood. Never drag George into his lap when there wasn't enough space for everyone. Never call him “Georgie” ever again. All because some asshole with a gun decided he didn't deserve to live anymore.


	3. Ringo Stone

“He’s dead. Someone’s gone and shot him,” whatever insensitive apology the woman uttered next was lost to Ringo. He hung up and began to gasp for air. He couldn’t breathe. It wasn’t possible. 

 

Ringo ran to his bathroom and emptied the contents of his stomach into the white porcelain bowl. He couldn’t believe it. No. No, it had to be a joke. This was exactly the kind of joke John would play. Ringo didn’t realize he was sobbing until his vision blurred. 

 

John told him how him and the others were terrified of him at first. It always made them all laugh at the idea of him being dangerous.

 

John kept their spirits up when they were sad. 

 

John wrote a song about Ringo when he felt he wasn’t getting enough credit.

 

John laughed when they messed up while recording and joked around to make them feel better.

 

John smoked pot with him and got drunk with him. 

 

John never doubted him.

 

John make stupid jokes no one else really got, but were somehow funny anyway.

 

John was Ringo’s brother. 

 

And John wasn’t coming home.


End file.
